


EMBERS and ASHES     (TIGER LILLY DASHES.)

by RunePhoenix6769



Series: Clouded Peace and Burning Honor [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, F/F, Feels, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, LGBTQ Themes, Sad with a Happy Ending, So much angst, Teen Romance, You're gonna need some tissues, you seeing a pattern here?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26609215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunePhoenix6769/pseuds/RunePhoenix6769
Summary: TYZULA WEEK: SEPTEMBER 2020.DAY 3: EMBER ISLAND.The Royal siblings and their friends, Mai and Ty Lee, have been sent to Ember Island on a forced 'vacation', far from the Fire Nation capital, under the guardianship of Lo and Li.Neither Azula or Zuko are happy about it, for entirely different reasons.The pull and push of Tui and La is meant to smooth jagged edges, instead it uncovers something the Princess desperately wants to keep hidden.Set in the same timeline as 'Clouded Peace and Burning Honor.'Avatar Last Airbender canon compliant.
Relationships: Azula/Ty Lee (Avatar), Tyzula
Series: Clouded Peace and Burning Honor [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1935745
Comments: 15
Kudos: 115





	EMBERS and ASHES     (TIGER LILLY DASHES.)

.

.

.

Azula doesn't know what it is but she wants it to _**stop!**_.

It's something that has been lurking under her skin and coiling in her stomach since they stepped off the boat in the small port of Ember Island, and she hates it!

Maybe it's the dismissal? 

This punishment of black sandy beaches, of forced R&R like she is some weakling that needs to recuperate lazing under the blazing sun. The thought that someone could find peace or clarity in remaining stationary in its rays is preposterous.

And Azula is most certainly _not_ finding peace!

There's a constant buzzing of static remaining annoyingly out of reach, like a cobweb from the catacombs of the Archives, lingering on the edges of hearing. 

By Agni she would give anything to be back in the cool Archives with her nose in the scrolls of famed Generals and Admirals. But she is _here_ , with _her_ and she hates it.

She is certain it is some sort of trap! 

The bait is far too invitingly laid out. Things that she has only recently begun to notice, not knowing why they draw her gaze that lingers too long to be merely curious comparing, or why her cheeks heat up when met by those wide warm grey eyes coupled with a soft small smile or why she feels like she's been caught doing something wrong? Or how she swallows and is slightly fearful when bright tawny eyes flicker too much like flame, narrowing and become all too knowing.

But Azula can't stop herself. 

There are soft curves there from which she has gleaned comfort. Sweet caresses and whispered secrets shared under the stars, as if uttering them into existence might shatter the world. Calloused finger tips lightly mapping the constellations found within sunspeckles coating the plains of light olive skin, each given names of regal importance but born of dreams.

And many more shall be created as the fabric of Ty Lee's galaxy is laid bare for all to see; satiny skin under which ripples cords of taunt muscle barely covered in scraps of cloth that is becoming the focus of hungry eyes and salivating admirers of either genders.

There it is again, that infuriating giggle coupled with coquettish sighs that causes Azula's hands to involuntarily curl into fists so hard that her nails leave stinging crescent moons in her palms and a storm in her chest that can't be dispelled through bending alone.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

She thinks it's a stroke of genius really, concealing their identity. It's refreshing that no one bats an eye at their presence, and curiouser still when no recognition is forth coming. There's a freedom in anonymity. And freedom, _true_ freedom is something she has never had. 

Azula finds she likes it. Or at least the idea of it. 

But she is unable to put it to rest; the need to pull at its threads, to use it as some sort of opportunity to learn and use to her advantage. It is something to focus on rather than the Onagi that is coiling and lurks in the dark caves in the _Sea of Chi_ in her stomach and the fractured crevices in her soul that have begun appearing of late; minuscule fissures leaking noxious gases that become a heady delight when she is the focus of a frivolous acrobat who is all at once heavy and lighter than air.

But the boy that creeps closer - like a lesser wolf at a kill looking to sneak a tasty morsel when no one is looking - nearly makes her break but not nearly as much as the acceptance of the pathetic gift. Debris from the sea cast aside by a governor's daughter who at least has self respect and is aware of her own worth. Surely the peasant knows that Ty Lee deserves the finest of silks and jewels that glitter and worth far more than any fortune he could hope to amass in a life time even if the spirits were to cast him a cursory glance?

He isn't worthy of Azula blowing their cover, no matter how much she wants to crush him and leave him to the tides far more merciful than she. But Ty Lee. Oh, Ty Lee who seems to be basking in the attention, not caring that she is weaving a web that is ensnaring the Princess, squeezing tighter and tighter in small increments until she fears she may never feel air in her lungs and making her skin burn in a way that has nothing to do with her element's Master. 

And by Agni, Azula despises it. 

But she puts her best foot forward; her unmatched physical prowess and wits that she is confident will more than make up for her inability to put names to things that she doesn't understand, to feelings that don't make sense and Azula suspects are fraught with a danger that she is too afraid to face or uncover. 

_In a tent in the Earth Kingdom, under the cover of darkness Ty Lee had whispered 'I love you' and Azula's reaction had been visceral. It was easier to deny, _deny_ _**deny**_ , and pluck its wings than imagine the consequences of its discovery, resulting in tears and leaving an aching empty space whose presence had been made of barbed substance. And the Princess had learned why illogical creatures truly feared fire and the heat of all consuming flame._

She tells herself it isn't born of a need to give balance to her world that is beginning to tip on its axis. That like the sandbars in the bay is shifting; constantly in flux beneath the lapping waves of the deceptively calm surface of the Ocean under which roils a brutal torrent. She cannot control the tides, _yet_ but she _can_ control the empire-class Fire Nation battleship bobbing on it's surface, a symbol of Fire Nation supremacy.

Azula knows the value in retreat and only sees it as dishonor if one gives up completely, rather more a reflection of a feeble mind, lack of fortitude and resolve. But a retreat to regroup or re-access is the sign of a competent General.

Mindful of her station, she cannot scream "Agni Kai.", it is a matter of honor and principal, but there is a battle she _can_ win. She tells herself it has nothing to do with regaining the acrobat's attention but rather a way to remind the cur of his place and it is of course her duty to do so. 

It most certainly has nothing to do with Azula's tenuous grip on the situation she can feel slipping through her fingers, or a desperate need to find safety in the familiar and balance in leadership.

Full frontal assaults are a waste when more subtler tactics can be employed. 

This is where she shines. 

In tactics and nipping at weaknesses until they become cavernous holes torn open by unrelenting pressure. The outcome of the match is already decided before it has even begun. And finally she finds a sense of peace - a moment when her stomach doesn't roil - as she's arcing through the air like an air bender - defying gravity itself - delivering a devastating blow that causes shockwaves to ripple and draw the eye of everyone on this accursed beach. 

There's a familiar sense of pride and accomplishment of victory as she surveys the battlefield made of black sands, charred remains of the Kuai net, the quiet pained moans of the fallen, and she revels in it. She smiles as her plan comes to fruition when the moo-sow eyed boy throws her a glare and limps away in shame and humiliation.

Azula knows it is proverbial that there are certain things which flesh and blood can bear but the heart and soul cannot, having seen the shades of those phantoms lingering in the shadows of her nightmares.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Anonymity, Azula learns is like a Jian sword, sharp, double bladed and _cutting_ , lending credence to dark things she had always suspected but never voiced. Things that might plague ordinary teenage girls but she is far from ordinary; an accomplished military general who had succeeded where many before her had failed. 

No, she _is_ extraordinary, so why are these dark suspicions, these viperous whispers creeping into her mind and refusing to let go? And why do they become louder at the sight of Ty Lee surrounded by admirers?

Azula knows she is beautiful. 

She is forever being assured that she looks like her mother, Ursa. And the disgraced Fire Lady's beauty is as famous as her banishment. Azula thinks that maybe her chin is too pointed and she can see her Father's harshness in her features when she scowls, and she has no doubts in her limbs and body; it being a finely tuned weapon sculptured by rigorous hours of training under the most talented Fire Bending Masters in the nation.

Azula's insecurities are not so superficial.

She finds them laid bare in the confused and sometimes glazed over looks in the the other teenagers she engages in conversation asking their opinion on the political climate. When they remain stony faced at her jokes that would have Ty Lee or anyone in the Royal Palace honking with high brittle laughter. When she witnesses a boy and girl mouth _"Yikes"_ when they hurriedly turn their backs to leave the table laden with strange foods. The look of sympathy from another when confused by the lack of etiquette and how they used their fingers grubbing around in the bowls she had quite rightly scolded them. Or how others avoided eye contact and they dispersed in all directions when she approached the small pockets that gathered in corners or casually leans against the walls of the room. 

There is no sign of fear, of awe, of reverence. Nobody is clamoring to claim her attention.

She has never understood awkward - that was an affliction of the weak not a Crown Princess - but as she stares into the amber liquid in the glass she had been expected to decant herself, watching her lesser peers she realizes what she has always suspected, that she is not engaging or charming or a master conversationalist. Even her rapier wit leaves a lot to be desired. 

Even Zuko and Mai seem to be mingling as if they belong here and are 'some of the most important teenagers on the island'. And of course Ty Lee is popular, so pretty and vivacious. 

For the first time in her life Azula has solid confirmation that she is _lacking._. That there is a possibility that her formal upbringing has left her woefully unprepared, impotent and socially inept.

And it is becoming increasingly obvious that she has been placated her whole life, that nobody likes her for _her_ , but rather her status and the benefits it can bestow. It doesn't come as a complete surprise but it leaves an acidic taste in her mouth, an annoyingly familiar lump in her throat and pressure behind her eyes she puts down to the dust in the atmosphere.

Azula tells herself that she doesn't care.

But Azula _always_ lies.

That giggle is like ice down her back and it ignites embers under skin. Embers catch light to the tinder that is hidden in places becoming a blaze. The way Ty Lee leans on the wall showing off the plains of her stomach, how she pretends she is clueless as to their effect. And all Azula can see is the ghosts of memories, of things she can't have but so desperately wants, of things she can never admit.

And her viperous tongue lashes out as incapacitating as a Shirshu, delivering words that are designed to wound and slice at the softest of places, cleave deeply drawing blood. Her way of trying to cut at the bonds that seek to bind her.

And she instantly regrets it!

They way wide grey eyes brim with tears and Ty Lee's lips quiver is like a knife to Azula's heart and it twists till she thinks it might never resume beating. 

They aren't in the catacombs far from prying eyes, no matter how much she wants to pull Ty Lee into her arms and press kisses to her hair she _can't!_. She tells herself the real reason is because public displays of affection are _weak_ and unbecoming, not born of ice cold fear that wakes her in the middle of the night covered in sweat, hand searching the space next to her in blind panic unable to dispel the wraith like images of what Ozai might do if her affections ever came to light. How this silly, ridiculous, sweet circus performer has come to mean so much and could be used as a weapon to bring her to her knees. 

Such things should not, no _**cannot**_ exist! 

Guilt has an oily feel to it. 

And even worse the little voice at the back of her mind - sounding suspiciously like her Mother - rattling against the bars of the cage the Princess tries to keep firmly under lock and key. It drowns out the voice of Ozai berating her enervation. Azula is fighting a losing battle. Ty Lee's hurt is too much to bear. 

A Princess _always_ surrenders with honor. 

For once, Azula doesn't lie. 

She firmly grips at wrists as a way of anchor - afraid that Ty Lee will drift away - apologies and hallowed admittance coming from a deep place of sincerity tumble from her lips meant only for Ty Lee's ears. 

When Azula looks up, she finds she is the focus of those all too knowing tawny eyes and she makes a dark promise to herself that if Mai ever breaths a word, it will be the last she ever utters. She desperately seeks to throw anyone who might be watching off the scent and a makes a beeline for the dumbest Ox she can find. 

-x-x-x-x-x- 

Azula's first kiss with a boy is lackluster. It is all at once too harsh and too forceful. Chan's tongue feels like an invading force, not soft and sequestering like Ty Lee's. It doesn't seek to cavort or be playful but to dominate. The muscles under her hands are too hard, his angles too sharp - so sharp they could pierce the hull of a empire-class Fire Nation battleship. They aren't soft and alluring, begging to be explored and lingered over. 

The kiss doesn't cause her synapse to spark or tickle places she has only recently come to know are signals of want and desire. She supposes that this is what she should get used to, knowing her future entails an arranged marriage of political advantage rather than a union born of affection. 

_That is something Zuko shall have and in that moment she begrudges him, loathes him even._

Chan tastes oaky and well just _wrong_ and his overwhelming cologne burns her nose, she wonders if he bathed himself in it. 

It can't be over quick enough and Azula immediately wants to wash her mouth out. 

Once off the balcony Ty Lee accosts her, grabbing her harshly by the wrist and dragging her through the crowds of teenagers Azula suspects could be drunk. She finds an empty bathroom, locks the door, and presses Azula against the wall. Gentle hands explore her stomach, puffy lips molding to her own. A gentle flicker of a tongue seeking permission that Azula is only too happy to grant. 

It is soft and tentative. A dance of equal measure. Dull nails lightly scrape off her skin elicting a response that Azula doubts she will ever get enough of. She wants so much more! She wants to sink into it, to allow it wash over her but she _can't_ , not here, perhaps even never. 

It is cruel reminder of the gaping loneliness she inhabits and she is terrified it will swallow her whole. 

She pushes Ty Lee away and leaves the bathroom, closing the door with a slam. 

-x-x-x-x-x-x- 

The Royal summer vacation residence sits on the hill, dark and imposing. Azula is acutely aware that the shadows it casts reach far beyond the bay to places where sunlight can never penetrate or hope to warm. Unlike Zuko, she takes no pleasure in dwelling with specters of a forgotten time, the hallways and sweeping rooms left hollow and abandoned too close of a reflection of what she feels. 

One can drown in grief and melancholy. _And she hopes if she dances light of foot over its inky surface she won't be caught by its crippling grasp and dragged beneath to its murky fathoms._. She pulls him out of the lurking undertow. 

On the black sands, Azula listens. 

She listens to the gently lapping waves - the lulling melody of La - staring out across the Ocean into the never ending darkness and she remembers nights spent under the vast blanket of twinkling kaleidoscopic stars; Tui's silver light illuminating cherished moments etched into memory to be archived in the most sacred of places deep in the catacombs of her heart. 

She listens to things she has always suspected be spoken out loud, given form and substance. 

Some are revelations. 

There is pain at the core of Ty Lee's tearful anger. It bursts forth hot like a geyser as raw and as rare as Azula's openly admitted affections. The unspoken implications are scalding, that Azula, the Fire Nation and the war ripped Ty Lee from her happiness and from her own hard fought for identity. 

The Princess can free Ty Lee, but she is far too selfish and shamefully fearful. She does not want to face hollow cavernous halls alone and so remains silent. 

_Azula hides._

She remains behind the carefully crafted veneer. Holding it in place no matter how they probe. 

She feigns indifference and plays off the hurt at being referred to as a monster by her own mother. It is far easier to give them a morsel with a nugget of truth rather than admit that she needs Zuko home. That she cannot face the stifling Citadel or bare the yoke of their father without him. She cannot voice that she needs him to draw Ozai's focus so she can breath. That being out in the field far from his ever watchful eye has given her a glimpse of freedom that she doesn't wish to relinquish. That maybe Zuko's relationship with Mai will be draw his attention and he will not scrutinize the company Azula chooses to keep and more importantly _why._. 

It is a tenuous plan at best, but it is the only way Azula can see forward through the claustrophobic cage that is her life. 

The others find catharsis in the destruction of Chan's house. They laugh and frolic light hearted along the beach front and up the volcanic rock path that leads to Lo and Li's residence whilst the Princess silently follows, each step harder and heavier than the last. Azula grits her teeth when Zuko and Mai hold hands and share kisses, whispering sweet nothings and crooning at each other, so carefree. 

Ty Lee falls back to walk beside her, her knuckles brushing off the back of Azula's hand like a dare. Her heart thumps in her chest but she can't bring herself to do it - to give in and bridge the gap - but nor can she bare the mournful pout she receives or the cool air that fills the space left behind when Ty Lee goes on ahead. 

There's a dull pit in her stomach and an ache in her chest. 

Azula doesn't know what it is but she wants, no she _**needs**_ it to _stop!_. 

_-x-x-x-x-x-_

Azula waits in her room - like she does most nights - in that purgatory of that torturous anticipation of 'will she, won't she', torn in two. Her mind runs rampant going over every possibility and contingency, devising counters for plans and scenarios that could possibly occur. The house around her creaks and groans cooling in the night air, settling in a way that she will never have the luxury of experiencing. The weight of expectation and a Nation precariously balanced on young shoulders that must never break or falter. 

She tenses when she hears the muted sound of the door sliding open and closed, holding her breath. She has no fear of would be assassins but rather a thief who smells of Tiger Lillies and leaves kisses on her skin that hurt far more than bruises and last longer than welts. They wickedly burn in places which blister and will never heal. 

There's a bank of cool air as the comforter is carefully lifted and the bed dips behind her. 

Questing hands slip over her fluttering rib cage, the press of soft curves at her back and Ty Lee's bare legs entwine with her own. Yet the acrobat wriggles closer still until they are molded together and the Princess can't tell where either of them begin or end. 

Soft lips press at the back of her neck and a nose nuzzles the hairs at the nape whilst fingers seek to interweave with her own. 

An unsteady breath escapes her lungs and the dull ache in Azula's chest begins to crumble in shakes at one gently whispered word, 

__"Zula?"_ _

Seeking comfort she rolls over, tucking her head under the acrobat's chin and curling into her chest; hands clutching at narrow, corded shoulders far stronger than her own, clinging to Ty Lee like a life preserver to a drowning sailor on the unforgiving high seas. Soft lips press to her temple and hair; far softer and far more than she deserves. _"It's OK, Zula."_

Finally, Azula caves letting out deep heart wrenching sobs, cradled in arms that she can never admit she _loves_ but knows she will always hurt. 

The eternal dance of Tui and La - the push and pull- is supposed to smooth jagged edges but all it has done is break her into pieces. 

_-X-X-X-X-X-_

Azula stared out over the bay, the blackened sands glistening with a coating of the ocean that dances with shimmering twinkles that could rival the night sky. Children and teenagers cavort chasing each other, their screams of delight carried on the wind. 

Her golden eyes briefly reflected in the glass made by the finest of craftsmen, she continued to search beyond looking for a place in particular and she couldn't help the small smile at the memory when they found their destination. Chan is now the master of the garish looking house that was rebuilt from the ashes left in the wake of a party that went down in Ember Island history and had been whispered about in awe, becoming a legend in its own right, among youths of the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom over. 

Years had passed before it had come to light exactly _who_ had been responsible for its destruction. But only when Chan - as a prefecture governor- had come face to face with the new Fire Lord and his sister and recognized them both. 

Needless to say both Royal siblings had been apologetic and reparations had been paid. 

Warm arms encased her from behind and she relaxed into them, loving the safety they willingly offered and had been hard fought for. "What are you up to?"

A soft kiss was pressed to the back of her neck and Azula entwined her fingers with the one resting on her stomach, admiring the newly acquired gold bracelet inlaid with blood red precious stones on Ty Lee's wrist. "What?" she replied, innocently, "- I am not up to anything!"

"You have that look that you're plotting." Ty Lee rested her chin on Azula's shoulder; her adult years giving her a few inches on the Princess. "- And plotting Zula always worries me." 

That party had been well over a decade ago, a decade that had contained harsh lessons for two young girls, a journey down separate paths to loop back round and meet again as two very different women. 

"Did you see the gift Lo and Li sent?" 

Casting her eyes at the painting of two beautiful looking young women posing backside to backside in very little clothing, Azula snorted with barely contained mirth. "It is good to see their sense of humor hasn't left them. We must make sure to put it in pride of place before Zuko and Mai arrives. I can not wait to see his reaction."

They were holed up in the newly renovated East Wing of the Royal Summer Residence waiting for guests to begin arriving. Both siblings had wanted to tear it down and start afresh but the the head Archivist and the Ember Island committee had been near apoplectic at the mere suggestion. Azula was certain the President of the committee had been about to faint, frothing at the mouth about 'centuries of culture' and 'priceless murals' and _sacrilege._. It had been quite amusing to witness.

They had come to the agreement that when not occupied the main part of the residence would be open to the public, keeping it as a museum of posterity of sorts. It helped inject an influx of revenue and attracted tourists from all over the world.

Azula didn't understand the curiosity. But she _did_ understand Art and Money!

However it was closed to to the public for the foreseeable future in preparation for something rather important. It had been a long hard slog to get here, full of tears of sadness and joy in equal measure. Well, the Princess hoped rather more one than the other.

Neither she or Ty Lee were going anywhere. They were patiently waiting for the ink to dry abolishing a piece of legislation that had no right existing in the first place. 

Apparently even the second most powerful person in the Fire Nation burning the damn scroll it had been written on hadn't made the infernal law any less legal. The head Archivist had looked the other way when she had turned it to ashes and then very nicely provided a sand bucket.

Ty Lee nuzzled against the hinge of her jaw, satiny lips pressing the brand of a promise, and she murmured. "So what _are_ you planning?"

Azula turned round in her arms, hooking her hands over Ty Lee's neck, returning the kiss with a loving one of her own. "I thought that we might call upon Chan?"

_"Unannounced?"_

"Yes." 

"I'm sure his wife will appreciate such a flagrant disregard for lack of protocol." 

"Since when have you ever adhered to high society protocol?" 

Ty Lee said with a faux pout. "When you want to run off and hang out with your first love, rather than your betrothed."

Azula grinned. "You are my are first love, my last and only love." 

Ty Lee's smile became wide and she pulled Azula close. "Even fire bending?"

The Princess paused, pursing her lips in indecision. "Hmmm? Let me think about that one! My beloved, or firebending?...Firebending or my beloved?

"Azula!" Ty Lee pulled back, playfully slapping her arm. 

Azula laughed loud and free at Ty Lee's scandalized look. " _Especially_ fire bending."

.

.

.

To Ty Lee, Azula _**never**_ lies. 


End file.
